Bro and the Beast 2 (The Wolf's Mate, #2)

by L.C. Davis

"I'm not cute," I snap. "Do you have some weird Shallow Hal thing going on where you see me as some tiny 'uwu' beansprout with glittery Hello Kitty eyes and not a swole bro who could bench your whole family?"

"Oh, it's different all right," Brad mutters. "For one thing, there aren't any sanctimonious werewolves who turn you gay with their magical musk."

Omegas have the reputation for being the clingy ones, but I'm starting to think alphas are the real culprits.

"Are you going to deny it?" he challenges. "Please tell me you didn't mate with that asshole just to get me a better prison cell." Before I've fully processed what I'm doing, I have him pinned against the wall by the throat. The look of shock on his face suggests this isn't how Catalina handles her interpersonal conflicts. Oh fucking well.

The kid keeps staring at me like she's one of them creepy little ghosts in The Shining, and I'm suddenly reminded of why I was thinking about getting a vasectomy. Me and kids have never mixed. Hell, I didn't even like myself when I was a kid. They all seem to come in one of two varieties—the kind that're always shrieking like medieval peasants whose village is being raided by dragons, and they somehow manage to always be sticky, or they're the kind that stare at you like a tiny Victorian ghost in a well. This one's definitely the latter.

They're a hell of a lot more normal than I was expecting, Mina aside, but that's part of the reason I feel like a fish out of water. No, not out of water. I feel like a fish in a three-piece suit standing in line at a fucking Costco.

mean, if I had a badass scar like that, I'd be unstoppable, but that shit is always wasted on emo villains and never guys who'd put it to good use.

The members of Raul's pack don't seem that bad, even if they have bitched a little about me being human, but I guess I can understand that, too. Pretty sure I'd be awkward about a rotisserie chicken running around my apartment.